Rivers of fire at dead of
in winter lying cold and white
upon the plain burst forth, and high.
the red was mirrored in the sky.
From Hitblum's walls they saw the fire,
the steam and smoke in spire on spire
leap up, till in confusion vast
the stars were choked. And so it past
There trumpets sang both long and loud,
and challenge rang unto the cloud
that lay on Morgoth's northem
while Morgoth waits for his hour.